


Birthday party, birthday boy, birthday gift

by thatworm



Category: LunchClub, SMP - Fandom, callmecarson - Fandom, jschlatt - Fandom
Genre: Birthday Party, Desire, Drunkenness, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Party, Pining, airbnb, cscoop - Freeform, hugbox - Freeform, mansion, misfits - Freeform, noahhugbox, twitchstreamers, youtuber mansion, youtuber party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatworm/pseuds/thatworm
Summary: Schlatts birthday party gets a little out of hand... luckily Noah is there to help out a friend!
Relationships: Schlatt / Noah
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Birthday party, birthday boy, birthday gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puppydr3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppydr3/gifts).



At another big Californian mansion, with solo cups and THC gummies pushed into his hands by inebriated half-famous people. Noah couldn’t give less of a shit. But this event was big, Schlatts’ 21st birthday, and there was enough alcohol to fill the pool in the backyard.  
The birthday boy had been pulled in every direction all night, guests congratulating and calling for shots and shotguns and kegs and whatnot. Not that Noah didn’t mind a drink, everything in moderation, but he didn’t quite like to indulge. It was much easier to maintain his reserved state. Breaking out of his collected self was usually reserved for angry Uno games or big donations. Occasionally someone would come and take a selfie with him, and he preferred to look presentable; too often there were unflattering pictures leaked after parties like this.  
Party music played, with no distinct lyrics, and he didn’t know the names of most everyone in the house. He found a nice chair in a side room and was fiddling with his phone when an unsettling crash came from the kitchen. From the groans, it sounded as though someone had knocked over a bottle of liquor. He scrolled through his feed some more and was so intrigued by Clint Stevens’ latest 16 star run that he jumped a little too much when the door banged open.  
The intruder appeared not to notice, seemingly too drunk to pay any attention to him in the corner. Startled, Noah realized that it was Schlatt himself, the main event, peeling his shirt off and reeking of tequila. Noah started to stand up. Schlatt started at his belt.  
“Hey!” Noah called out, swallowing the lump in his throat, wanting to stop his friend before he revealed more than either of them would be comfortable with.  
Schlatt was startled, jumping back and tripping over one of the Timbs he had already kicked off. Noah grabbed him by the bicep before he could fall into the dresser and knock off the glass decorations or knock his head on the carved wood.  
He managed to pull him up and set him on the bed before he could do any more damage.  
Schlatt blinked at him, and briskly asked “what are you doing in here?”  
“Can’t even say ‘thanks’?” Noah muttered, before explaining “it’s too loud out there. I don’t know anyone, sorry I didn’t realize this was your room.”  
He stood to leave.  
“Wait-“ Schlatt grabbed his wrist “you can stay, I hate it out there too.”  
Noah backed down, confused. He figured Schlatt was relishing being the center of attention.  
Schlatt looked down at his lap, and remembered that it was drenched in alcohol.  
He muttered “fuck”, closed his eyes and lay back on the bed. He sighed deeply before gesturing vaguely to himself and saying “somebody covered me in this shit.”  
Noah couldn’t help to laugh but quickly gulped nervously. Schlatt was still half naked, sticky, and spread out across the bed. He’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t enjoying seeing him like this, as he’d imagined so many times before.  
“Enjoying your party, birthday boy?” He teased.  
Schlatt opened one eye cockily, concocting some snarky reply before rubbing his face with his hands.  
“I’m too fucking drunk,” he admitted, earning another chuckle from Noah, “I can’t get my fucking jeans off.”  
They were pretty tight, to be honest. And now they were soaked with alcohol and straining over his thighs. Getting out of skinny jeans was a feat on its own, and Schlatt looked pretty drunk. Noah himself had had plenty of drinks, but seemed a little more alert.  
Schlatt kicked off his other shoe and fumbled with his belt again. His hands shook as he tried to undo the buckle, and he let out an exasperated sigh when he was unable to get it completely undone.  
“Here, lemme help,” Noah offered. He waited for a rebuke, but received none. He quickly undid his belt, nervous as all hell to be this close.  
Schlatt covered his eyes again. He mumbled something inaudible, and Noah leaned in.  
“What?”  
Schlatt sighed but spoke up, “can you do my button too? And my zipper?”  
Noah felt blood rush to his cheeks and ears and a little more south, but decided it was innocent enough to help his friend. He undid his button and pulled the zipper down slow, drawing it out. He was definitely flushed now.  
Schlatt lifted his hips and pushed his jeans off before kicking them onto the floor. Noah tried not to look, really.  
His voice was unusually high as he asked “shower?” And he cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure before asking again, “would a shower help?”  
Schlatt shook his head, eyes still closed, now almost nearly naked.  
“Don’t wanna stand,” he explained.  
“Okay well maybe I should just go-“ Noah tried to escape before he got more worked up and embarrassed, but he was cut off;  
“Please,” Schlatt opened his eyes now, “stay.”  
He was begging. Noah looked back and felt himself heat up even more. He bent forward just a little, staring into Schlatts eyes and seeing desperation. He glanced, not so discreetly, at his package in his wet boxers and saw that it seemed to be awake. Schlatt leaned forward and neared Noah’s face, which was all the initiation it took for Noah to press his mouth up against Schlatts pink lips. He brought his hand up to his chest and felt a hand sneak around him and up his shirt. Without a second thought, he rid himself of the clothing and pressed his bare chest to Schlatts, joining their mouths again. He kissed him passionately, fire in his belly, finally living out all the desires that had plagued him since the first time they’d met.  
“Happy birthday, Schlatt,” Noah muttered as he pressed him into the mattress, kissing the side of his neck and pushing their hips together.  
It was the best present he could ask for.


End file.
